


Historiography

by Lithopear



Category: Original Work
Genre: Epistolary, Future, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Science Fiction, space
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29687163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lithopear/pseuds/Lithopear
Summary: The history of the planet Avide's brief experience on the galactic stage, along with the efforts of a historian trying to document it some 400 years after the fact.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	1. A Brief Foward

To chart the beginning of the demise of the Jadellian Imperial State is, to many, a challenging and fruitless endeavor. So beset was the later imperial government that to blame one fault or another is beyond the point. The faults and trials of the state overlapped and fed upon each other in making the whole enterprise both inevitably and spectacularly doomed. To point at one event is to deny another- and that is even when the effects of one action are agreed upon. There is yet vigorous debate over the 3429 Governance Decree under Emperor Jarek III, which saw the outlying systems of the empire gaining greater independence over their own planet side affairs. Now, even some three hundred years after the fact, academic circles ponder whether this decision fostered allegiance from the petty nobles who made up those star clusters, or if the lack of central oversight permitted the Barren Insurgence to come about even sooner than it would have done otherwise. The matter is not helped by the fact that many of the records kept by the imperial government and its latter successor states are fragmented at best, and deceitful at worst, with each power that emerged justifying its own existence in these histories- whether they be factual or not.

So the circumstances of the Jadellian demise are hotly contested, but the outcome is obviously apparent: the Purple Throne has laid vacant for over two centuries, its former planets under new management, and the last squadrons of the August Defense Force have long since been driven from the skies. Yet the effects of Jadellian Imperial rule still remain apparent today, and perhaps even more specifically, the lack thereof; for one of the great legacies of the empire, beyond the standard military and technological achievements that came from ruling such a vast and powerful state, was the devastation it not only wrought upon its neighbors and the quadrant as a whole, but also unto its own peoples- the stories of which are so often forgotten in talking on the subject. And even still here there is debate over the nature and scope of this domestic devastation: as many have pointed out, the Jadellian state was just as calculating as it was cruel, its leaders just as much after the pursuit of material wealth as bloodshed. Even those monsters, some may argue, could see that a living populace is more profitable than a dead one; and thus some consider the records of the imperial state razing and destroying entire planets en masse are but Jadellian propaganda- an effort to keep its increasingly unruly subjects docile and content with the knowledge that it could be worse.

Even so, planets were destroyed, their peoples killed, the futures of any person- good or bad, great or terrible, caring or cruel- were rendered moot in one fell swoop. Many are forgotten for no one is left to remember them, nor does anything exist to remember them by- and those instances where there is indeed a story to tell are sidelined by the tragedy and terror of the empire at large, treated merely as footnotes and evidences to a larger picture. The adding of a single planet or star system ultimately did not matter in the grand scheme of things. Its newly acquired citizens did not tip any scales nor make any efforts more or less plausible. Ultimately such peoples were just as easily lost as they were gained- especially if they did not hail from one of the core worlds.

One could in fact be forgiven if they were to merely diminish these fringe settlements and planets to the back of their mind- plenty have done so before, and many contemporaries still do. Yet there still exists those who may trace their ancestry to such worlds, and may even possess their fragmented histories.


	2. Truly and utterly M.A.D.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Minister Joran Kanner and a very bad day.

It is late in the 4063rd year under the Aviden Calendar, and First Minister Joran Kanner of the Pliola United Provinces is not having a good day. She and her party have ridden a wave of popular support into office, but they had only managed to secure a slim majority in the Pliola lower house, the Storol, and a dead tie in the Storal, the upper house. It did not help matters that the United Provinces were situated in a precarious moment of Aviden history: its neighbors to the north, the Ruxum Federation, had pulled out from many of the planet’s arms reduction treaties some five years previous- spurring many other nations to do the same- and the proverbial clock seemed to tick ever closer to midnight.

The nations of Avide were, in the galactic context, primitive. While the Ruxum and Pliola armed forces pointed guns, bombs, ships, tanks, and missiles against each other- the planet’s galactic neighbors had already progressed to the modern implements of phasers, shields, artrex torpedoes, and starfaring voidcraft. The most advanced Aviden tools of war- and indeed the planets most advanced forms of technology- were its fission-warhead missiles; which were able to carry out the compete self-annihilation of its many disparate peoples.

It is precisely these crude yet advanced weapons the First Minister worries about: she has just claimed that in the event of the destruction of the military command of Pliola by a nuclear first strike, the standing orders are to retaliate in kind. Not only does this anger many of her party’s supporters, but the nature of this claim is certain to raise tensions between her government and the one to the north. It would be considered, and is made as, a threat: if you kill us, we can still kill you.

The only thing is: no such orders exist. Rather the orders, situated in missile silo control rooms on land and submarines under the sea, instruct all efforts to be put into the rebuilding of a destroyed populace, joining a surviving allied state, anything- just not the useless killing of many more. But Joran Kanner cannot say that: the entire use of building bigger and bigger bombs- more explosive and destructive weapons of war- is that they may never be used. Or that is the rational she accepts. It is the doctrine of mutually assured destruction, that the threat of retaliation assures that no one would ever be the first to pull the trigger, for the fear that what's left of whomever the weapons were pointed at could still throw a nuclear payload back to the sender. It is, in effect, the threat of total destruction that is meant to prevent it- even if it all but assures everyone is under a great deal of stress and worry at all times.

And even still, to assure this threat, the First Minister must unequivocally state that the orders are to fire. So late in the year 4063, when she is questioned in the Storal, she says that Pliola will retaliate and kill millions in the event of the destruction of the state. It is impossible to know whether she, or anyone present sees, the cycle that is at hand. Everytime that any of the major players on the Aviden world stage make this threat, people worry. When people worry, they will seek safety behind bigger bombs and assurances that their government will, if destroyed, also grace the world with mushroom clouds. Other leaders say they will, and everyone is back to step one, only with all parties a little more anxious, and holding their finger a little closer to the big red button.

But still the cycle progresses. First Minister Joran Kanner makes her remarks. Her remarks are transmitted on radio for all her world to hear; and unbeknownst to all the seemingly petty squabbles planet side, a lone ship hides listening in to the radio traffic. The scout ship Ambros is holding position on the far side of the Aviden moon, and notes the threat that this future prize of the Jadallen Empire lurches ever closer to destroying itself.


	3. Death of the Author

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our historian, Basil, faces some challenges actually finding any sources for his work.

I’m in what I’m told is a green room. And though it looked red as I entered, I’ve slowly come to seeing it as- what my partner in crime assures me it is- a green room. Even then, I suppose I’ll be in here long enough for my mind to trick me into seeing red again. Though I may be an accomplice here, I certainly am only ill-able to contribute in any meaningful manner- and my use was surpassed after I booked tickets on the Conan.

I suppose some explanation is in order: posterity, and the Medran Ministry for Education, demand it. This whole endeavour is, in effect, the bellwether to the end of a formal education and an entrance into the Domestic Ministry- only one more project, and this required contribution to the next generation will be complete. Even so, though my work is cut out for me, it may even be lucky that I am to document the fall of Avide for it is, in a historical context, undocumented. There are plenty of warnings to, well, not rock the boat, as it were. It only takes one person to determine you’ve drawn incorrect conclusions in some essay or print years ago for your career to be sidelined and left to languish. So while those assigned more relevant and well-known subjects should find the need to bite their tongue, I on the other hand, am only to be the first in an admittedly few.

The only problem is: as part and parcel with undocumented histories, there exists very few- if any- primary, secondary, or even tertiary sources. And even though the invention of knowledge to fill the rather large holes left in the historical record may seem the easy route: I’m not there yet.

It was all the better that this ship- the Conan- was to pass through the system for it is one of the few voidcraft that can trace their histories back the 400 or so years to the destruction of Avide. In truth, it's actually a selling point- one of less than a dozen ancient Jadellian warships that still ply the stars from that particular era. And even though I suspect the historical significance of the Conan to be at least slightly inflated, one of the shipping logs dating to the 3340’s I was able to source put it in the same sector as what must have been the Aviden occupation fleet. And as this was before the widespread communications overhaul the empire undertook in the latter part of that century, it's likely subspace signals had to be retransmitted by other Jadellian ships, such as this one- and there could still be records aboard! Still, the one problem is that the Conan is still a military vessel, equipped with all the anti-boarding and security measures that not even its current owners have full control, or even full knowledge of.

And this is where Gerbera comes in. While I might be able to get on the ship, I would not be able to have any hope of accessing any of the computer systems or databases. And even then, I am eager to get this over with, but not eager enough to get myself thrown out of an airlock for being somewhere I should not. But through a friend of a friend of an acquaintance, I was able to get in contact with someone who may be able to help me.

The thing is: I’m quite sure Gerbera is not his name- this notion being encouraged by the fact he has gone by five different names with just as many persons in the few days we have been working together. I also have the distinct feeling that if I were ever to find anything close to his real name I should not live to see the generations I am tasked to enrich, so I shan't press the matter. But I do suppose one does not obtain the skill set necessary to bypass warship computer security by strictly legal means.

And so we are now locked in a shared room, myself trying not to worry, and Gerbera- who’s species is better able to tell the minute differences between what is considered green and what is considered red- telling me we haven’t tripped any security systems yet. He would know: the overhead lights are still green. We would not have a lot of time to worry if they were to go red, I’m informed, so I suppose there is no use worrying.

The thing that actually strikes me as slightly humorous is that this whole affair of writing the making of the book is actually a part of Medran historical tradition. While some may believe the Death of the Author, here the author is alive and the intent matters so much that this text- which I fully intend to edit before the final draft- is a requirement to the historical genera, meant to allow a window into our bias and reflections for posterity. Though there is some recent pushback against this notion as the modern world reveals more and more that posterity means permanence. And I don’t think even those who seek the remembering of the self after death would want such deep thoughts known.

Thankfully, such thoughts that border on mortality are items that are fully out of my hands for the moment. I am nonetheless informed that I should not have to worry about the death of the author until the lights turn red.

-Basil, aboard the Conan, 3749.01563 Galactic Standard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of the chapters I'm importing from my blog on tumblr. This chapter ended up being to long to put there, so I will now be uploading this series to ao3; so hi!


	4. Exhibit 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evidence for the Court Martial of Communications Ensign Lorven Entan

Exhibit 4 of the Court Martial of Ensign Lorven Entan

Personal log of the offender, made 3342.01285 Galactic Standard.

-begin personal log-

The General seems off, somehow. The recent stain to his honour of being demoted to domestic affairs has weakened his already fragile constitution, and the fact he’s at the end of his illustrious career without the usual rank or hint at nobility seems to have made him bitter and desperate. It’s every day now he demands to know the status of dissent in the sector, and I have the distinct feeling he should take charge at the first whiff of rebellion- if nothing else to prove his loyalty. An officer at his rank either sees life off on a throne or in front of a firing squad, and it looks distinctly like his fortunes favour the latter.

Fortunately for him, he has received a new assignment for the time being- meaning he is not totally out of the good graces of the high command: a star system within our borders must be secured and its position fortified in preparation for one planned conflict or another; and the General seems to have taken a keen interest in seeing to this whole affair personally. He’s mobilized two construction units and a whole squadron already, and is already keeping tabs on the planet in question. At least I hope it is the planet in question; the order was, as most High Command orders are, vague; and the system currently under our interest is just one of many pre-FTL civilizations in the sector. For all our sakes, I hope we have the right one.

In more personal news, they’ve transferred sector command to the warship Arteck in preparation for the planned operation, and it is becoming very difficult to relearn the internal layout of each new command post. I’ve gotten lost the last two times I tried to return from the communications array to my cabin; and I am getting the impression the guard I keep asking for directions is getting annoyed. It doesn't help things that the cabin in question is in the outer hull, and the seemingly large influx of raiders into the area makes that a dangerous- and undesirable- area to be. It is perhaps even more dangerous when one stops to consider that in the ongoing struggles to adequately fuel any local unit- even military ones. Most ships have been running at reduced power levels; usually meaning shields are offline.

I would go to the ship's logistics officer- If I can find her that is- to ask if she would consider raising power levels for shielding as the sector commander is now onboard; but I assume someone else, if even Commander Vannex, has already asked. Hopefully he has: I would love to be a witness to him telling the General that there will be no shields for the foreseeable future; it would be a treat to see that pompous heap of engine sludge be put in his proper place. And say what you will of the Genneral, he does not lack an instinct to self-preservation: he and his staff will find protection even if it means depriving another squadron of fuel. It’s something to be thankful for- at least before it comes around inevitably to ruin by one means or another. 

Though perhaps I should not be so hard on Mr. Vannex: I have the distinct feeling he should see the end of his commission over this problem. And though he may be entitled; his replacement should be cruel- as most replacements to _disposed_ officers are.

We may all meet his fate though, so no pressing buttons in the airlock. We’ve begun receiving intelligence from the target planet, and it’s all hands to stations in preparation for the occupation. Wenet has already begun training translators for the process, and I overhear their agony as their dictionary is constantly being outdated with new information. Construction materials have already been stockpiled at Starbase 5034 in preparation. The near ongoing combat drills aboard should be more than enough to ensure success if diplomacy fails. It all _should_ go well- and it will! By one means or another it will.

-end personal log-


	5. Missed Communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unresolved error message in the communications data.

[ERROR TRANSMISSION. NO VALID RELAY TRANSMITTER]

Sender: P.O. Unax Ayor; Scout Ship Ambros

Recepient: Lenden Nadal; Starbase 1012

3342.06243 Galactic Standard

-recording begins-

Hey Nadal! I hope you are doing well; hopefully the problems I’ve heard plaguing the station are not bothering you too much. Just follow Inan’s advice and don’t put anything fragile out in the open: this way if they mess up the gravity plating again you won’t have to worry about it falling once they fix their error. And… well… I just hope things are going well, ok? I haven’t heard from you in a while and I don’t know if I should worry because you shouldn’t end a message like that and then don’t send a follow-up.

And I don’t know what’s going on, but I _really_ don’t want to lose anyone else. So, yea, if things are getting too hot over there just try and catch a ship somewhere else, visit Andran or Sorlos, especially if it seems the systems are not getting better. Have you read the stories from Starbase 6074? They didn’t have any warning before containment breached; and the constant system failures where you’re at just don’t seem like normal wear and tear. If you begin to worry, I think there is still a handheld Geiger counter in my quarters there; you should know where it is and how to use it. If it runs high; just out of there. Go. I give you cart blanc to take anything you need from my cabin and run and get somewhere _safe_. I’m sorry if I’m sounding weird but… I worry about you. Ok?

I don’t know what else to say, I -well - I still have more space to record so… how about my day? Yea? That’s normal; isn’t it?

It’s been one of those days, ya know. Where it seems you’re stuck on a downhill slope, only able to go through the motions or do nothing; where both options just make you feel worse. It’s not to say life’s been difficult here it’s just… _tiring_ \- yea… that’s the word. Like, I spend the day sitting at the signals room, listening to the planet below; and it vacillates between me feeling the voices on the other end of the radio are here, or me feeling as if they were so distant that I could never in fact see them with my own eyes. I don’t even understand the voices, I just hear and serve as a glorified input corrector to the computer; but it’s like you are on some great precipice of understanding. It’s probably just the isolation talking- drowned in the waves it’s called. You’re put into isolation as you and the computer sort out what’s one word and what’s another while listening to the radio- and you either come out mad or fluent… or both. It doesn’t help that the computer itself is terrible. It makes two words of one and one word of two. At this point its just going through the motions of manually correcting each error. The latest example for this are the words “ _morol_ ” and “ _sotal_ ” in one of the languages there. The computer keeps flagging them as two different words despite the fact that they both translate to the _same_ _thing_. And it’s just degrading to push the same buttons for the same problem for hours unending. And even then, it’s probably just mixing two language datasets somehow. I’d try to get the only other communications personnel aboard to help me, but they’re also drowned in the waves; so if the problem persists I’ll just set an override about it.

I hope that wasn’t too much, and I’m running out of space to record so… yea. I hope you’re doing well. Could you… please say hi to Adex for me; I wont be able to send a message to him for a while. And… oh! Please stay safe; all of you. I’m running out of time; please respond if you can. I mi-

-Maximum data size exceed-

-Recording ended-

[MESSAGE ENDED]

[REQUIRES MANUAL TRANSMISSION TO PROCEED]


	6. A Predecessor's Position

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Personal log of chief intelligence office Redex, Ambros

Chief logistics officer Redex, Ambros, personal log

3342.08293 Galactic Standard

-begin log-

If someone does not kill Ibvat, I will. I care not for the consequences- or even know if there would be- but every time I pass a window I hope to see his body floating into the vacuum of space. It’s not that we had not even been amicable before: but after demanding I expedite every bit of intelligence without compilation or review, it seems he wants both of us to end up _out there_ . Not that one of us won’t be drifting in orbit at the end of this. I told him what was and what was _not_ possible, and yet he goes and overpromises and over-reports to the sector command.

I’ve even been trying to help him out of his own predicament, but there is only so far that I can go until I run out of material to analyse. Already one of the radio operators has been overworked, and the other keeps listening to items of such little importance it’s a wonder that I know even a quarter of the major cities on the planet. And thanks to the latter operator’s listening habits, I don’t even know the date it is on the planet below: radio reruns keep upsetting the data collection so much I can’t tell if there is one calendar system or two. And Gods! The calendar is supposed to be the easy part! How can I be expected to draw up military concentrations and movements if I don’t even know _when_ this is all even taking place. I mean- did the one fleet leave last year or last quadrum? When will there be greater anti-aircraft defences? Where? I don’t know! I need yesterday, today, and tomorrow if I even want to start dealing with all of _that._

And what is supposed to happen then? Most people can agree on a date, but they can’t agree upon each other. You get one radio signal calling the neighbours to the east the biggest threat, and the signal the next town over decries the nation to the north. And this is why you don’t deal with pre-FTL worlds: they always make my job harder than it ever needed to be- even in the best of times. But while I _can’t_ do anything to help Ibvat in the short term- nothing that won’t get me executed for bearing false information that is- I am at least putting in all the necessary effort. I won’t be charged with negligence and dereliction of duty.

I’ve been helping the computer understand the translated mathematics that were able to be translated. At least _those_ data points cannot lie- not really. You can fake having bombs and ships and bullets and planes and all the other things that could impede an occupation if not handled correctly- and I will need to deal with information on those subjects sooner rather than later- but you can’t fake the science behind those objects. In this regard tis' best to start with the elements as their derivative weapons provide the greatest obstacles to a successful occupation of an intact planet, even if they are a bit tedious to sort through. This does naturally assume anyone is bored enough to broadcast elemental constants past the stratosphere. Though perhaps those on the planet have passed such a point as half of what one can hear on all radio waves is some incessant beeping that obscures the computer- making it both a headache to listen to and deal with.

It started the last shift actually, but already I know that before this occupation has well and truly begun: I will find whomever it was that had the bright idea to broadcast this up to now unending series of beeps on all these gods’ forsaken radio frequencies, and we will have a nice chat of very _few_ words. By then it should be only the second body I would have needed to hide.

Perhaps one of the few bright sides to this whole affair is that we all should be _adequately_ rewarded for all this. Weilden who was in a similar condition supervising intelligence on a pre-FTL world ended the assignment in the enviable position of a province leader, and whose future boarders on minor nobility. If I could replicate his success, well, I could hope to do no better.

-end log-


	7. Revisions I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basil begins to sort through Jadellian documents as he heads back to Medra.

Beginning to sort through the first of the primary sources has proved to be…  _ a greater pain  _ than what I hoped would be necessary. And although I expected them to be no great boon- I mean further research is always necessary, sources must be verified amongst themselves in order to achieve a clear chain of events, biases must be accounted and corrected. I- well I- I don’t know. I at least expected them to be…  _ Useful _ ? If that’s the best term to use. At this rate I’m working on a great deal of assumptions. None of the documents I’ve examined thus far have even mentioned the planet by name- and even those so far that do mention what I believe to be Avide I only find by chance. There is at least hope that I may be able to use the time frame of these first documents to find more; but it will become a tedious task.

I only fear I’ve stumbled upon a false trail which will lead me to some other planet’s historical destruction. Which does not bode well for me as what notes I could scavenge on past attempts to complete this task seem either inadequate or fictitious, if borrowing from what would be a standard Jadellian occupation narrative. I will have to make pains to gather more primary sources in order to make up for my predecessors' lack of them.

Then it is perhaps almost good the Gerbera has taken an interest into this whole affair. And though I had assumed it initially to be born of monetary factors: the ancient Jadellian hard drive and its associated files would fetch no small amount if the right buyer was located. It seems that this interest is born of something else- of what I cannot say for certain. It could be morbid curiosity for the planet, or even for my unenviable endeavour. Beyond these explanations my mind tends to fear the cause for such an interest considering his background. A background which pushes me to make all attempts to break the partnership we have formed. If nothing else that my name does not appear alongside  _ unnamed criminal contributor _ on the final manuscript. Though there is no harm at the moment if he were to help me locate pertinent sources. I hope.

I’m still with him- I mean we’re still in a cabin together. Only because we needed to book passage after our escapade aboard the Conan was complete, and it was cheaper to share a room. And while such close quarters would inevitably spur interest if only as a counter to boredom, I don’t think the interest ends wholly and completely there. At any rate, it is a cure to isolation at the moment to indulge his questioning; and I should go mad without it. It is even enjoyable to anguish the self-fascination of these assorted documents with him, and how they never seem to be talking about what the subject I need.

If anything I was surprised about his grasp of the Jadellian language. It is not common in the sector, and even less so amongst those who are not academics. And yet he is able to replicate the near melodic properties characteristic of empiric Jadellian. I do not know whether to think of this as good or bad. Considering what I know of his profession- and what I don’t- I consider it best not to press the issue.

All matters aside: I at least have a solid beginning to this whole project. Even if this may be a false lead. But let me assume it not to be for now, so I do not think this effort to be in vain. And I can relax, right? No more fear of setting alarms, or wondering the exact hue of a room’s lights. And even though I have my work cut out for me: I at least know where to cut.

But I’ll put that off for the moment. It’s the first time I’ve been off world in a while; and I hope to enjoy it while it lasts. When the ship makes station tomorrow, I’ll try to do something- anything! I doubt I’ll have much time, but perhaps some stargazing would be nice. A station would be the place to do it. The greatest irony of the space-fairing era is that all the light planetside means the stars are blotted out by the thin brown haze of the night, making once distant systems seem ever farther away. Even in a starship: any and all light is warped and contorted at weird angles whenever FTL is achieved. Still, perhaps the best reason to stargaze from a station is that constellations are relatively preserved, especially if it in near a planet. I mean it is not difficult to see patterns in the stars; but to find patterns in the stars millions have found before you, some seeing the same images you see thousands of years before your time is… something different at the very least. I’ll make a day of it. At least something that passes for a day in space.

-Basil, in transit, 3749.01648 Galactic Standard


	8. Managing Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An intelligence report submitted to General Pomen.

General Pomen,

General, I am glad to report that our intelligence mission is proceeding at an unparalleled pace. And while we have determined the armed forces to be no match to our planned mission, there is some worry among my officers that the greater danger is the accidental destruction of the planet at the inhabitants’ own hands.

The planet, it seems, is in an armed stand-off between powers in the Northern continent, and powers in the Southern continent. We _have_ the ability to overcome their forces by military means, but the fear is that any attack on one side would be thought of as originating from the other powers in this stand-off. And as many of these powers are armed with  _ “morol” _ \- nuclear armed missiles in our context- it is possible to see what we fear. Our worries are additionally caused by the recent implementation of a more powerful version of these weapons- “ _ sotal” _ . These versions seem capable of reaching farther distances, and are even capable of leaving the atmosphere. 

We were only made aware of this device’s existence when a prototype was launched and left the upper atmosphere, emitting a radio signal we were able to track. The device itself was launched by one of the southern nations, the Pliola Provinces, and we are able to track signals being transmitted to the device from a coastal Pliola military facility. If the initial stages of planetfall are to be carried out by military elements, planning should take care to make sure not to trigger the launch of such devices, or attempt to begin before large numbers of nuclear warheads can be fitted to these missile bodies.

I also wish to make clear that we have no doubt that our forces should be able to carry the planet into our care, but we only wish to prevent needing a fallout-rehabilitation effort.

Moving onto the eventual civilian aspect of the occupation, we have determined the current borders of the planet to be suitable to our needs. Nevertheless, in the event that an area proves to be too vast to administer effectively, we can also utilize the internal divisions of the various nation states to reduce occupation zones to a manageable size. For the administration of these zones, our technological advantage is presumed sufficient to reduce the need for personnel; even though a large amount of technicians will be required to raise the planet’s production capacity to acceptable levels. Furthermore, we have identified various locations for the planetside administration complex, though the final location of the orbital station is still undetermined. The closest moon to the planet would provide a better defensive location, with better firing arcs in the event of enemy presence; while a position in the orbit of the planet itself would facilitate trade and oversight. We are not in the position of knowing the needs of the station, and thus leave it to you for a final decision.

In some of the more esoteric developments, we have determined our name for the planet as a whole: Avendex. It is an agglomeration of some of the planet's own names for itself; modified for better Jadellian pronunciation. Though the name is not yet set. If you decide it better to rename it to your own liking, it is still possible.

We hope this message finds you and your operation well, and we await further directives to guide our work.

Lt. Commander Ibvat, Ambros, 3342.11062 Galactic Standard

**Author's Note:**

> So this was something jumping around in the back of my mind for a few weeks, so I decided to put pen to paper as it were. This is just a personal project, and any comments or criticism is welcome. Thank you for reading if you did!


End file.
